Kiss The Sky
by Shine Q
Summary: Trowa is a scientist who finds himself dealing with a difficult but charming assistant who is unfortunately just as complicated as he is.
1. Prologue

**Kiss The Sky [Prologue]**

     Sometimes you think that you know yourself well enough to predict what you would do at certain situations at certain times. You think that you did what you did, heard what you heard, and saw what you saw but what happens when this trivial task turns into a lie? I am, of course, not referring to the lies that are attributed to evil and deceit but the kind of lies that make you think, the kind of lies that lead into an eventual and necessary truth.

     I've known Trowa Barton all my life. In fact, I don't remember ever being separated from him. I was there when he lost his first tooth. I was there when he graduated from kindergarten. I was even there when he picked his nose right in the middle of a discussion panel when he thought nobody was looking. Through the years, I have learned how to adapt to his ways, understand his desires and uncover his little secrets. You could almost say that Trowa and I are one and the same. We were one and yet we were so different from each other. That was what complicated things the most.

     Let me describe Trowa for you. As a child, he spent most of his time with me. It wasn't that he loathed the company of others. It was just that he was more serious than anyone his age. When I say serious, I mean serious. Rarely did he laugh or smile or wondered about the giant fluffy animals that were featured on television. To him, everything of a child's world were no mystery. He knew that the sun was a star, that no monsters came out at night, and that the fluffy and hideous animals on television were merely actors dressed in heavy, poorly designed costumes. He knew too much and therefore indulged in more serious thoughts, uncharacteristic of a child. The poor thing was always too old for his age.

     No one was ever good enough for him except me. Being his only true friend and confidant, I spent all of my time with him. A lot of people suspected that he was insane to seek my company but all of the doctors just attributed our association to a phase that was present during childhood and that ended at the onset of maturity. 

     Maturity. I would say that the word was highly inappropriate. I found such conclusions an insult to Trowa's brilliant mind and a blow to my capabilities as his only friend.

     Nevertheless, our separation did come and it was not because he'd grown more mature but because times had changed. I was near him as I always was but it wasn't the same as it used to be. He would consult me when he made the most crucial decisions in his life and he spent time with me when he had to escape from the horrors of his busy life. Other times, he was just too occupied.

     It was sad, really. The responsibilities that stacked itself upon his already strained existence had moved him further and further away from me. He was too busy with his education. He was too busy making brilliant discoveries that even the oldest intellectuals could not fathom. I was proud of him and because of that, I felt content to be by him in every step he made, whether it was a step up or a step down. Indeed he was stepping up into his life goals but at the same time he was stepping down from the life of simple pleasures. He was getting nowhere. That was when I decided to step in.

     You couldn't really blame me for what I did. I had to save him from the sad little grave he was digging for himself. He was only seventeen. He may have been a child genius but he was still a teenager. His childhood was anything but a childhood and it was about time he got a real life. Besides, he was dragging me down with him. I don't mean to sound cruel. I was just trying to save the both of us a lot of grief.

     I'm telling you now that I didn't have much to work with. Trowa didn't have a life. Period. Maybe you would suggest that I could use his winning personality? You're wrong. Don't get me wrong. He's the sweetest person there ever was but he had the amazing tendency to drive people away. They think that he's too strange.

     Strange? Well, let me give you some examples. When he has seven different tasks to do within an hour, he devotes exactly eight minutes and fifty seven seconds to each chore. On exams that last for two hours, having 100 multiple-choice questions, he devotes exactly one minute and two seconds for each question.  When he has three cupcakes on hand and two homeless people awaiting the delectable treat, he gives each person one and a half shares of the cupcake. You would think that he was absurd but believe me, Trowa Barton was all about maximum efficiency.

     Communication skills, you ask? Oh, dear. Where should I begin? He rarely talks and when he does, he sounds so complicated that most people wouldn't even dare continue the conversation lest they be exposed as incompetents. Thank goodness I at least have the same capabilities he had. Otherwise, he'd be entirely isolated.

     Thank goodness too for his wonderful sister. She just may have been sent from up above. She was a dear, always attending to his well-being, making sure that he had his meals in between busy school and work schedules.  She always tried her best to cheer him up, bring him out of his stale room and meet other people. It didn't work often though. He'd usually stare blankly at prospective friends. I took pity in his sister for her fruitless attempts.

In some ways, he brought her down with him although I'm sure that he didn't mean to. I hated to see her as miserable as he was. It was heartbreaking and it was killing me. That was why I had to take action.


	2. Part One

**Kiss The Sky [Part One]**

It was a Wednesday afternoon when it all came together. Trowa was seated in one of the booths of a quaint little cafe in the part of town where businesses loomed. Beside him was his sister Catherine who was idly chattering, very much aware that the person she was talking to was not paying attention. Trowa was staring off into the big buildings, watching as people moved mindlessly around the busy streets. In other words, he was his usual self.

"Trowa, you didn't hear a word I said, did you?"

He diverted his attention from the busy people and turned to her. He just stared for a while before giving his answer. Sometimes, he just looked too creepy. I didn't know how Catherine could stand him.

"I heard. You're prospective boyfriend is on his way here from the fifth building to the left of this cafe where he currently works. You are thrilled at the prospect of meeting him and you would very much appreciate it if I would indulge him in a conversation even if I do not wish to do so."

"And I though you weren't listening," she said with sarcasm.

He looked at her and then stared off again, not amused by the events that were taking place around him. Believe me, Trowa was very hard to entertain. Most of the time, he found so many things wrong about the world.

"Trowa," his sister called, her face not quite as jovial as when they first arrived.

She was concerned and he didn't seem to notice.

"That wasn't the only reason I brought you with me," she admitted. "I just wanted you to try going out today to meet some people. You've been working in that lab for who knows how long. You need a little sunlight and at least some exposure to the outside world."

He didn't react but I was sure that he was a little upset that he was mislead. He wanted to leave right away but I forced him to stay, forced him to give his sister the little victory she deserved. He felt a little guilty and that was enough to keep him in place.

"Thanks Catherine," he said with sincerity.

He was going to say something more when they were interrupted. Trowa averted his eyes from his sister and directed his piercing stare to the intruder. Needless to say, the man was terrified and was already getting agitated.

"Jules. I'm glad you came. This is my brother Trowa. Don't mind him. He's just a little shy."

The man was obviously not convinced. I wouldn't have been convinced either if I were him. I wouldn't believe the 'shy' explanation one bit.

"He won't bite," she said, trying to convince him while kicking Trowa's leg with her foot.

She was thankful when he withdrew his stare. I was thankful too since he was starting to scare me as well. Those eyes were the most intimidating things I had ever seen. I thought that sometimes, he used them for the purpose of amusing himself. He liked watching people squirm at his presence. Sadistic, I know but don't we all have our dirty little secrets?

"Trowa, this was the person I was telling you about," Catherine said while nudging his leg.

"Yes, the very popular Mr. Fletcher. I hear that you work for a big company whose main office is located around this area."

"So Catherine has told you about me then. Yes, I do work around here and I thought I'd stop by to meet with your sister."

"The word meet is highly inappropriate considering your body language. It's quite obvious that you have other concerns or shall I say desires that you cannot accomplish in my presence. I'm taking that look on your face as my cue to leave the two of you for some much needed privacy."

Oh well, at least he made it quick.

He stood up, shook the man's hand and opted to transfer to a different booth. I was surprised he didn't leave. I was sure that he had new discoveries to make. However, when I thought about it more carefully, I thought that what he really intended to do was make sure that his sister's safety was not threatened by an objectionable man. He looked out for her too although his ways were more subtle.

"Black coffee," he said even before the waitress asked him for his order.

Yup, Trowa really needed better people skills. He just scared the poor girl off and I didn't even see her coming. Things were really beginning to look hopeless from my viewpoint.

I probably wasn't looking hard enough. The moment I said that, it happened. The most wonderful miracle walked into the cafe, his presence being signaled by the light tinkling of the bells attached to the top of the door. My jaw dropped open and Trowa, unfortunately, was examining a table napkin while the whole incident was happening. I thought my luck was running out.

It was then that the waitress came back with the cup of black coffee precariously balanced with five other beverages stuck between her fingers. Trowa chose that time to look up and relieve the girl of her load. He nodded a thank you and then stared at his cup of coffee. I would have dumped the coffee on his head if I could. He was lucky that I was more reasonable than that. He had no idea that something magical was happening a few feet away. I could sense it and I hoped that he would too. What's so amazing about that darn coffee anyway?

"Just a cup of black coffee please."

Bingo! Trowa's head shot up upon hearing the voice. I just knew that it was perfect. Trowa never paid attention to anyone if that person weren't more important than his work.

"Are you sure Quatre? I don't think I've ever seen you have lunch. I think you need to put on a little weight," the man at the counter said.

This was getting even better. I had a name to go with the face.

"I'm fine. I just need something to wake me up for the next meeting," he answered in that soft voice that I couldn't even begin to describe.

"Another one of those, eh?"

"Yeah," he answered and then sat down in one of the stools facing the counter.

He looked tired to me. He was tired but he was gorgeous. I think Trowa and I shared the same thoughts.

I looked at Trowa and I knew then that I finally had something that I could use against him. Trowa was staring and he was literally drooling on his shirt. I should've brought a camera with me because that never happened. Trust me. I've always been around Trowa and nobody has ever brought out a reaction like that from him.

I couldn't blame him. I too was lost in a trance-like state. This person called Quatre was so striking. His bright blonde hair was playing tricks with the sunlight that was filtering through the glass and his face was so perfectly shaped that one would think that he was sculpted. His suit and his matching stature was so elegant that you could tell he was refined. His voice sounded so soft against the thunderous sounds of the city outside. I know. I was exaggerating but so was Trowa.

"Trowa?"

Not even his sister's voice was snapping him out of it.

"Trowa?"

I guess he needed a harder push.

"Trowa!"

He snapped out of his daydream and I was surprised to find him back to his old self within seconds. Disregarding the drool that was threatening to flow down his mouth, his face was as blank as always. He just stared at his sister in question.

"Trowa, are you alright?" she asked and he nodded a yes.

It was good enough for Catherine but her companion was not convinced.

"Catherine, I think that little brother of yours has a crush on my boss over there," Jules said, motioning with his hands.

Uh, oh. Nobody challenged Trowa like that.

"I was only wondering why a young person such as himself would consume that much coffee."

I should have hit him upside the head. He should have asked about how he could privately meet with this 'boss'. Question number two would be boss? Isn't he too young to be your boss?

"Trowa, you aren't exactly any older than him and you're drinking a lot of coffee yourself."

Leave it to Catherine to figure out what was wrong.

"I have my reasons," he said and then looked sternly at Jules with a warning. "If you have nothing else of importance to say then I suggest that you get back to your job."

It was too late to take it back. Catherine looked at him in disbelief. She was disappointed and he knew it. Deciding to watch his words this time, he stood up, took a last look at Quatre and left with his sister. Mr. Fletcher bid his farewell and the two were gone.

For the rest of the day Trowa was in la-la land, daydreaming about various scenarios that he could only dream possible. I was there to start a conversation with him but he didn't seem to notice me. He went about his work, looking very much like the professional he was but only I knew what was really going on inside his head.

"So, Trowa," I interrupted while he was scanning something through a microscope. "I take it you like the blonde in the cafe they called Quatre."

He nodded his head.

Hah! I knew he would never keep anything from me.

"Are you planning on asking him out sometime, maybe accidentally bump into him? Or maybe you could ask Jules if you could meet with his cute boss?"

"Negative," was all he said.

I should have known better. He was not going to make his move. I really wanted to help but he was being difficult.

His eyes left the microscope and then he put on his glasses, ready to face the computer for another few hours. I didn't like it. He always used his work as a reason to ignore me. Fine then.

He spent at least an hour staring at whatever indiscernible figures were floating on the computer screen and then left to get himself some more coffee. Nothing interesting happened any more that day. I was grateful at least that Trowa finally came across someone good enough for him. All he needed was a harder push.


	3. Part Two

**Kiss The Sky [Part Two]**

Mundane. That's how I described that day. It was one of those long, boring days when we would both spend time in the lab doing nothing. Let me rephrase that. I was doing nothing. Trowa, on the other hand, was busy. He was always busy. If not for the monkeys that lived in the labs, I would have lost my mind already. While Trowa did whatever experiments with those monkeys, I would look around the cages, either playing with the monkeys or just annoying them to no end. It wasn't the most helpful thing to do but it sure was a way to pass time.

After four straight hours of testing and calculating, Trowa deemed it necessary for lunch. Of course by then, I was exhausted and starving as well. He decided to walk that day and have lunch somewhere around town. I followed him all the way to a small café a block down from the University.

Trowa didn't mention anything the walk short walk there. It was the same everyday. I would keep on talking, deciding to amuse myself and he would keep to himself and act as if I weren't there.

It really didn't insult me all that much actually. Through the years, I've gotten used to our structured existence. I knew that he wasn't blatantly disregarding my presence. It was just our way of dealing with each other.

What did get me annoyed that day was the fact that he didn't mention what exactly he had in mind. It wasn't like I didn't know about his current infatuation already. I was always there to listen to whatever he had to say. He always came to me when he had something new in his mind, whether it was a chemical formula, a philosophical musing or even a silly thought. There was something different about that time, I knew for sure. This Quatre fellow struck a chord I thought no one could.

A short walk, a soft projection of voice and he had Trowa grasped on the palm of his hand. I thought then that I should at least help Trowa get what he wanted. After all, we were buddies for so long. I knew I would have done anything for him.

There was only one problem, however, that stood in my way. As I continued my irrelevant hullabaloo, I noticed Trowa shift his gaze from me to the outside of the café. There were people passing by as was the usual case but it seemed like he wasn't paying attention to the crowd as a whole like he usually did. He was looking at each individual; possibly matching their appearance with that of the person he'd seen the other day. This Quatre person had quite the effect.

Witnessing his actions and taking his personality into consideration, I realized that he wouldn't dare initiate a conversation with the blonde if they were to come across each other again. He was an observer and nothing more. It was that simple.

You see Trowa wasn't the kind to look forward to social interactions. Sure, he associated with me, if that was what you would call it. Aside form Catherine and myself; the world was filled with strangers that had no business with him and therefore never really concerned him. The world was his little lab and the people were part of his experiment. This new person concerned him but he was in too deep in his ideals of social order that he refused to break the mold.

"Trowa, are you listening?"

That was automatic with us. I would ask him a question every once in a while to zap him out of whatever trance he was having.

"He doesn't concern me," he said, almost to himself. "I don't need any further distractions."

Now that statement was really awful. I just had to object while I had the chance.

"Why don't you say that again and this time, listen carefully to what you're saying. Do you even know the implications of that statement?"

He didn't answer me. Instead, he put the rest of the sandwich in his mouth, picked up his coat and left a tip before exiting the café. If you thought that I was annoyed then, you were wrong. It was fine with me when he didn't pay attention to my nonsense but that was a serious question. Anybody would think it inhuman for a person to disregard what was in his heart and instead listened to what was in his head all the time. This topic did not concern being rational. It concerned being human. He must have been out of his mind because I was sure that I didn't want to die alone.

I picked up my coat as well and tried to catch up with him. I didn't say another word the rest of the walk back. I knew it was no use at that point. I would have to talk some sense into him at a latter time.

I've always known that his research was the most important thing in the world to him but I never thought that it encompassed his desire to find someone that would make him happy. I'm telling you, this guy was too serious for his own good.

When we arrived at the lab, I noticed something so obvious that I wondered why I never thought of it before. The lab was practically our hell. The two of us were merely toys scatters around playing with other toys and gadgets. His research was starting to look meaningless and our lives were becoming even more stagnant than it already was. I detested it right then.

I thought about how we usually came in on the mornings, taught a few classes a day and spent the rest of our time in research. The university was utterly dull and our lives were no better. For the first time in who knows how long, I wanted to have a life outside of all that. I wanted to experience what the romanticists and dreamers experienced. I was going to get myself a life and Trowa was coming with me whether he liked it or not.

That was exactly what I had in mind when we arrived home that night. I immediately slumped down on the couch and breathed out in exhaustion. I looked at Trowa, meaning to have a long talk with him and noticed him go directly to the bathroom of our shared apartment. I wasn't about to let my enthusiasm at that moment slip away.

I followed him inside, not caring when he got undressed and dipped himself in the tub. The air smelled like bath soap and he looked like he was going to fall asleep. He didn't usually dip himself in the tub whenever we got home. Maybe I was lucky. If he went directly to his books then I wouldn't have been able to have a decent talk with him.

I put the cover down on the toilet and sat there, waiting for him to notice my presence. When he didn't respond, I decided to begin the conversation.

"Trowa, I think we need a life."

He didn't answer but he looked like he was listening. That was good enough for me.

"I'm starting to get tired of spending so much time at the university. Face it, the students hate us and the company that's funding your research looks like it's going to go bankrupt soon. I don't think I could handle another presentation and beg those corporate people for grants. They always think you're too young and too naive to handle something big."

He didn't object to whatever it was I said. I think he agreed to some degree but I wasn't convinced that he would agree to what I proposed next.

"You know what? We should leave that place. The place is filled with intellectuals who act like pompous, arrogant know-it-alls. We should get a job somewhere else, earn big and fall in love."

He snorted. I never expected that. Perhaps, he never expected that line of thinking from me. He also never expected me to go through with anything. He may have felt the same way but he was willing to continue living that way and he was pretty sure that I would do whatever he decided on doing. I did say something, however, that did catch his attention.

"How about the sweet looking executive at that café yesterday? Do you think he's worth a try?"

He looked amused and dismissed my statement. I didn't see what was so funny about it.

"Later," he said and then went further down into the water.

I made no more attempt to disturb him then. I was tired myself and all I wanted to do was lay down on the sofa, stuff my face with potato chips and watch a long, horror movie until I fell asleep. We had no food for dinner so that was the next best thing. I know. It wasn't very healthy but there were always ways to get along just fine.

A few hours later, I woke up to find the TV station tuned in on the shopping channel. They were advertising an exercise machine that supposedly enhanced your body while you slept.

"Pathetic!" I said and then looked for a decent station.

As I stopped by soap a commercial, I suddenly realized that Trowa might have been out of the bath by then. It was a cue for me to approach him again. I thought that maybe that time, I would be able to have a more decent talk with him.

I supposed that he was in his room, figuring out those hopeful problems but I was surprised to find the room empty. I went to the bathroom to check if he ever came out and found him asleep on the tub. I must have underestimated just how tired he really was.

I snapped my fingers to wake him up and left to clean up the mess I made in the living room. I must have fallen asleep on the potato chips because there were little specks of them all over the place. When I came back to have that talk again, he was fast asleep. There was no use disturbing him then so I decided that I too needed some rest. I closed my eyes and fell asleep within minutes.

The following morning, I was awoken by Trowa's voice. It wasn't really loud enough but the soft murmuring was enough to wake me up. I didn't think that we had any visitors since that was next to impossible. I walked closer to Trowa to check what he was doing.

It wasn't a surprise really. His sister had just called and he looked like he just got out of bed. Catherine was checking on him again. I didn't bother listening so I decided to go make Trowa and myself some breakfast since we were both up earlier that day. Eggs sounded good. They were easy to make too.

As I was leaving the room, however, I heard Catherine ask a question.

"I know," Trowa answered, pausing to think some more. "I've been having this crazed fascination about him ever since the day before. It's been distracting and I don't know what to do about it."

So he was asking Catherine for advice. That was even better that I initially predicted he would do. I had to give him more credit sometimes.

"Some guy at the café the other day. Dear god, not Jules!"

I was sure that she was playing around with him so I left those two to their talk.

"Ok," he answered again.

I left him to suffer Catherine's 150 questions a day. She would start from 'have you been eating' and end with 'you're not eating'. I had better things to do than to listen in.

I had no intention of going to school so I thought up an excuse for myself. At that instant, my scattered little plans came together. I knew that since Trowa did have that unmistakable longing, I had to do something to help ease it. The job was going to be difficult since I barely knew Quatre but there was always a way as long as I knew Trowa. I knew Trowa like I knew myself and I knew exactly how he would react to certain things.

I decided to check the papers littered all over his desk and find out all I could from the pieces of information that I could decipher. They were overburdening for the untrained eye but I was glad that I could at least understand some of it. I needed to find a flaw.

Having decided after a few minutes of searching that there was nothing there, I decided to leave for school early. I wasn't going to attend classes of course. I was going to do a search that day. I was going to make a research on my own. I didn't know much about the corporate world but I did know everything that went around in the university. If I was lucky, I would find some information on that Quatre person. If he were as young as I thought he was then he would most likely be a student.

Heck, Quatre might have been some big guy in his company but in school, Trowa was the big guy. He may have been too young to be convincing but he was enough of a genius to be respected by those old coots. Besides, the University thought of him as an asset and would do anything to keep him there.

I stopped my urge to release the evil laughter that I knew was going to come out. If they would do anything to keep him there then they wouldn't object to my plans. It was all coming together and I thought myself a genius as well.

All I had to do was find a way to get Trowa to subtly and unconsciously agree to my plan. I knew nothing would get Trowa out of those research labs so I thought what better way would there be than to do everything in the lab setting. It was comfortable, it was familiar and most of all it was perfect.


	4. Part Three

**Kiss The Sky [Part Three]**

It took me three weeks, three weeks to get everything ready. It was difficult to arrange for my plans. I hoped that Trowa would appreciate the effort even if he wasn't aware of what I'd been doing without his knowledge. Imagine all the research I had to do.

I was grinning all day. Trowa may have noticed because he too had an air about him that screamed 'I'm in a good mood!' That was not all that unthinkable. After all, whatever made me happy made him happy and whatever he had in mind, I had in mind. What can I say, we're one and the same.

I played with the monkeys that afternoon and they too seemed happy. It was like everyone knew what was going to happen that day.

After Trowa performed another procedure, I left the room and waited for things to unfold. It was exactly 2:53 pm when the newcomer arrived at the door. He was wearing a white coat over his casual clothes and he was holding a clipboard on his left hand. On his head were a pair of glasses that seemed more suited for someone else. He was confident in his stride and he looked ready for his new challenge. I really hoped he was because Trowa wasn't the easiest person to deal with.

He knocked on the door before coming in.

"Come in."

Trowa didn't care much for people that came and left his workspace. He may have considered them a nuisance but he didn't mind that much. He ignored any strangers that came in and went along with his job. I had a feeling, thought, that he wasn't going to ignore this one for long. It was so perfect I praised myself endlessly.

"Dr. Trowa Barton?"

"Yes."

Trowa didn't look at him first. If it was another one of his annoying students then I'm sure he would've decided to send them away more confused than when they first walked in. Talk about evil.

"I'm your new research assistant."

Trowa's eyes flashed with anger although he never really looked at the newcomer. I had a feeling then that he would hate me for it. He always worked alone and the new arrangement was going to be a difficult change.

"I need proof."

He was still facing his computer screen, unable and unwilling to accommodate his new visitor. His new assistant, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind the rude welcome. He came closer to Trowa and handed him the folder that was stuck to the clipboard. Trowa opened it to survey its contents. The new assistant was legitimate.

"I have only one rule," Trowa said, closing the folder and handing it back without looking back. "Stay out of my way."

I hoped that Trowa would look at him at least. It was of no use to me if he didn't. My plan would have been destroyed right then and there. I closed my eyes and prayed that he would take a look. About five seconds later, he did.

"I need a name to... address you."

Everything was just as perfect as I had planned. All I needed to do after that was watch. I knew for sure that Trowa would be able to handle it alone.

"You can call me Quatre."

Quatre was definitely the looker. He had the softest looking blond hair and the largest and brightest set of eyes hiding behind a pair of glasses. He looked like a twelve year old playing doctor in his long white coat. True, he had that childish look to him but he was gorgeous and I was a genius.

"Quatre," Trowa repeated and at that same instant, his face was once again indifferent as if disregarding his internal reaction.

I understood him because I knew that he would have acted the same way no matter who the guest. It was Trowa after all. There was never anything different about the way he treated people. What I wanted to know, however, was how long he was going to hold on to the attitude. I knew his facade would be defeated eventually. All I had to do was wait.

"You'll be fine as long as you concentrate on analyzing those data. Come to me if you need anything."

"Thank you Dr. Barton."

"Just call me Trowa."

"What was that?"

"Trowa."

Quatre nodded and began his work immediately. Trowa stared at his new assistant, probably smirking to himself and followed his gaze to where his assistant was going. Actually, none too chaste thoughts came to his head.

Quatre sat down by one of the desks and pulled a chair over to begin. He looked both attentive and enthusiastic, just like the novices who experienced their first try at something. He looked like he was going to love his work. He must have been insane because I could never stand long hours analyzing data. One hour later, though, he put his pen down. I knew he was getting bored. It was pretty obvious considering how quiet the place was. He took off his glasses and massaged his temple.

"Tired already?"

I was aghast! Trowa never initiated a conversation. It was obvious too that he was watching his assistant. Otherwise, he wouldn't have noticed Quatre's state.

"A little. You know, I think you need a little something in here. Forgive me for saying this but it's pretty boring in here. Your monkeys look like they're going to spontaneously combust out of absolute boredom."

Wrong move. Trowa was always defensive when it came to his research.

"You don't say? Why don't we implement a language device that will determine once and for all what they think? What do you say? Do you have any algorithms in mind?"

It was horrible. I didn't even see it coming. I couldn't believe that he scared off his assistant that quickly. He could have at least been nice even for another hour. It was a big surprise though when Quatre held his ground. I thought he was the crying type. I guess I was wrong.

He smiled instead at the remark, got off his chair and went closer to Trowa. He sat precariously on the wobbly desk, tapped his fingers on Trowa's computer and swiveled Trowa's chair to face him. Let's just say he was lucky he was gorgeous because Trowa would have punched anyone else in the gut for doing what he just did.

"You know, Trowa," he started, with an emphasis on the 'Trowa'. "I think I know what your problem is."

Quatre swung his foot back and forth and continued to look at Trowa who didn't look phased by the awkward approach. Trowa simply crossed his arms.

"Oh really?"

"Uh huh."

"I won't wait all day for your answer."

Quatre jumped down from the desk and came so close to him that he didn't know what was going on. He'd never had a decent conversation with anyone before much less having a new acquaintance within two inches of his face.

"Who said I was going to tell you?" Quatre whispered so close to his face and went back to his desk without another word.

Trowa was puzzled, to say the least. He would have bet that this was the same Quatre from the day before but the question was, what was this supposed businessman doing in his school, in his department and in his lab. He had the credentials, he had Trowa's complete attention and he most likely had suspicious intentions. I wasn't about to dissuade Trowa from what he thought. I did say that I was just going to watch.

When we arrived home that evening, I kept on bombarding Trowa with questions. He didn't think to ask where I was all day probably since he was too distracted salivating all over his new assistant.

"So, how was he?" I asked as we approached the door.

"Unbelievable," he muttered. "I can't believe he said that."

"So, we find out you're not invincible after all, huh?"

I laughed at my own remark.

He grunted and pushed open the door. Instead of doing his normal routine, he went directly to the phone, grabbed a folder and looked through the contents. When he had what he was looking for, he dialed a number and then waited.

"What is this all about?"

"Didn't you think that someone else could have picked up the phone other than me?"

"Who's idea was this assistant?"

"It was your idea."

"I don't remember requesting for one."

"Think of this as an implicit request. You looked like you needed help, the kid was more than qualified and you needed someone to formulate something for that grant proposal of yours."

"So you send me a twelve year old, put glasses on him and match it up with a white coat and all of a sudden, my prayers have been answered?"

"Technically, yes."

"I don't..."

"You're welcome, Trowa."

Trowa had to hold back the rest of what he had to say since the connection was cut. He couldn't think of anything else that could rid him of his current situation.

"He was distracting enough already," he said, acting like a child himself. "I can't deal with this."

I wasn't about to let him do that.

"Look, Tro. Consider it a challenge. Not only is he reliable and charming, he's also got more than enough money to fund your research. Just look at it this way. You don't have to prepare for another presentation. Your guy is just five steps away."

He made a resounding sigh but he agreed.

"Fine. But he's not charming."

I thought he wouldn't notice. Ah, well. There was still time to learn about Quatre anyway. I knew that Trowa was going to eventually take the statement back.

Before I could continue, the phone rang. Trowa went to pick it up while I waited for him to finish.

"Hello."

"Dr. Barton."

"I thought we agreed it was Trowa."

"Well Trowa, in case you were wondering why I called, I was asked. No wait. Let me rephrase that. I was ordered by the department head to immediately call their prize possession Dr. Trowa Barton and apologize to him for something I wasn't aware of doing. Not doing so would cause me a probation so here I am. I'm sorry. Was the apology sufficient?"

Trowa didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to tell Trowa because Quatre didn't sound too happy. I couldn't blame him. I wouldn't have been too happy either. It was going to be complicated.

"I never demanded for a verbal apology."

"So, should I come in with a written apology tomorrow?"

"Look, none of this was my idea."

"I'm sure none of this was, including the idea of having an assistant. Look, if you want me to stay out of your way then that's what I'm going to do. Don't worry, I won't forget the written apology for tomorrow."

Before Trowa could say anything, the connection was cut. Trowa slammed the phone down. His good day was turning sour because nothing was going his way. He was obviously not in a very good mood so I left him alone for the rest of the night. I hoped that it wasn't going to get any worse. I knew something needed to be changed and I was sure that it was Trowa's attitude that needed a change. That was necessary if he really wanted the new arrangement to work out not just for him but for the both of us.


	5. Part Four

**Kiss The Sky [Part Four]**

The following day started uneventful. Trowa taught his hour-long class in the morning as he usually did and I sat up front taking my daily Trowa-induced nap. Sure, it was rude but I didn't think a lot of people could stand his boring lectures at eight in the morning. It was just too cruel to have to absorb so much information when your mind was still in dreamland. He didn't mind me sleeping though nor did he mind half the class who was snoring so loud it was drowning out his deep and steady voice. He was used to it I guess.

With closed eyes and the steady rhythm of Trowa's voice in the background, I thought about the night before and how pissed off Trowa's assistant was on the phone. Lingering on the back on my mind was the fact that sweet-looking Quatre was not somebody to mess with. He wasn't one to be pushed around and I wondered just how Trowa was going to handle the situation that day. It was either he was going to apologize for being rude or he was going to act indifferent. I had my bet on the latter.

I was hoping that the two wouldn't turn out to hate each other because then my plan would have failed and I would have to deal with their regular stand-offs. It was just a simple misunderstanding but different scenarios went through my head. As much as I wanted to be optimistic, ugly thoughts came flowing in. I just couldn't picture Trowa being pleasant. That was the problem.

I snapped out of the thought and opened my eyes when I heard the unrelenting sound of someone's phone going off. The person didn't even think to turn the blasted thing off. It was as if it was being done on purpose and Trowa looked none too happy. He had an evil glint on his eye that spelled disaster. Much to my surprise, he simply gathered his things and left the room. There was no 'class dismissed' or 'I'm letting you out early'. He had a few minutes left but he looked more concerned over something else to mind that fact. The students were relieved and I was puzzled. I followed him through the halls, up the elevator and into his office.

"What was that about?" I asked, watching him turn on his computer.

"I have no desire to teach children."

That answered my question. I made no move to start up a conversation because he was most likely concerned about something else, something I was concerned about as well.

There were a few moments of silence before I heard someone coming toward Trowa's office. I found it odd since no one bothered to visit him.

"But he deserved it."

"Says who?"

"A whole class of 350."

"You know, I don't think I'd like to hire someone who cannot behave himself like an adult in tasks that demand concentration and consideration. While I do check for competence in my employees, I also make sure that they're mature enough to handle the job. What do you say? Is an apology in order?"

"I guess I was being a jerk."

I looked at the doorway just in time to see Quatre with someone, probably the same person who wouldn't turn off his bothersome phone earlier. The student was twice Quatre's size but he seemed like a child next to him. Quatre was dressed up and boy was he really dressed up. I didn't know how much his suit cost or from what type of leather his shoes were made out of but he was the looker. He had me salivating all over my shirt.

"Excuse me. Trowa?"

The student looked at Quatre as if he were asking for his death. Nobody called Trowa by his first name. It was a sin in itself. It was either Dr. Barton or Prof. Barton and nothing else.

"Yes?" Trowa answered without looking back.

Quatre's companion seemed relieved more than anything else.

"Umm, professor, I just wanted to apologize for the interrupting your lecture earlier," the student said, wringing his hands together.

"Apology accepted."

The student was so relieved that he said his thanks, greeted Quatre and then left as quickly as he could. It was Quatre's turn next. Trowa still wasn't looking up but I noticed that he wasn't concentrating on what he was doing either. He was simply acting as if he were busy. I waited to see what would happen.

"Do you need anything, Quatre?"

Quatre came closer to Trowa's desk and left two envelopes next to his desk. Trowa's first reaction was to look at him in question. It was only then that Trowa noticed what he was missing from refusing to look at him in the first place. I'm sure he noticed what I noticed earlier.

"These are?" he asked, picking up the envelopes and refusing to look away from Quatre.

"Letters of apology. That is, unless you'd prefer a public apology."

I didn't think he would go through with it. Trowa didn't think that either from the look on his face. Quatre looked really serious about it. I think he meant it.

"Look, I'm really sorry for last night. The first letter is for being a nuisance on the first day I worked with you and the second letter is for being unable to control my temper last night. I didn't mean to be childish so I hope you'll forgive me for acting like one."

Trowa didn't know what to say. I think his witty and cruel comebacks were becoming extinct around Quatre. His mouth was open, signaling that he was surprised. Quatre looked too sincere to turn away. There was no other choice but to give in.

"Ok."

One word and Quatre was smiling.

"Thanks. I'll see you at 3 o'clock then?"

"Three o'clock?" Trowa asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I work for you, remember?"

"Oh, right."

"Bye."

Quatre stepped out of the room and proceeded to the elevators. Let's just say Trowa was thinking about something else when Quatre mentioned something about 3 o'clock. Trowa stood up and looked around for something, anything to serve as an excuse to run after him. When he found nothing he just hit his monitor once before running toward the elevators. He barely made it in time. The doors were beginning to close. A block with his arm and he was right in front of Quatre's face.

"Where are you going?" he asked, not knowing why but hoping it was enough to stall Quatre's departure.

"To work," Quatre answered, surprised.

"To work?"

"Yeah. I work in the mornings."

"So why…?"

"I'm a part-time student."

"The student that apologized earlier, does he work for you?"

"Yes."

"Is that why…?"

"Yep."

Trowa didn't know what else to say but he didn't want to let go of his foot that was keeping the elevator doors open.

"I don't think the people who're waiting for the elevator will be pleased when they find out you're jamming the door," Quatre said.

"But," Trowa said, still stalling.

"My board members are going to slaughter me if I don't get there on time. See you later, Trowa," he whispered close to his ear and then gave Trowa a weak push, just enough to move him away from the elevator sensors.

Trowa watched as the door closed, paying close attention to Quatre's pleasant face as he left. All my ideas were so wrong. I never imagined the scenario in my head. Maybe I wasn't giving them enough credit.

I was still thinking about that scene when I saw Trowa come right back in the office. He sat down and picked up one of the envelopes still on his desk. He opened it and unfolded the letter to read its contents. I looked over him to find that Quatre had indeed written a formal apology. Everything was structured, from the day's date to every single line in the paragraph. He wasn't kidding when he said he was going to make one.

When Trowa was done reading, he put it down and noticed a slip of paper fall to the ground. He picked it up and then looked at its contents. I didn't pay attention to it, waiting for him to open the next letter when I heard something so foreign to my ears I thought I was going crazy. Trowa was laughing. I sure didn't know why but he was laughing and he looked very amused.

"Back massage?" he said, thoroughly entertained by the slip of paper.

I wanted to see what exactly was on it so I looked over his shoulder and tried to read what was on it despite Trowa's uncontrolled shaking. Unlike the formality of the letter, the paper was colorful and the words looked like they were scribbled with crayons. I looked at it closely.

"1 Free back massage," it said. "By Quatre R. Winner, C.E.O."

*****

In the afternoon, I left Trowa to his own devices although I decided to continue watching him, just to make sure that everything was going smoothly. Minutes before the hour, he kept on checking his watch, hopeful that Quatre was going to come in soon. He looked eager and I was glad that he found some other activity just as rewarding as his research.

At exactly three, Quatre came staggering in. He was trying to catch his breath while holding on to the doorknob for support. It looked like he was in a hurry to get there.

"Am I late?" he asked and then put his things down on one of the desks.

He was no longer wearing the suit he had on earlier but he was still dressed like a professional. He retrieved his pencil from inside his bag, ready to face whatever Trowa had for him to do that day.

"You're not late," Trowa answered.

He handed Quatre the newest data they had and went back to his computer. It didn't look promising at all. They were going to go at a quiet pace again. I was sure that it was going to get very boring soon.

But alas, I was wrong again. Only after being around each other for ten minutes, another quarrel broke out. I couldn't say I knew it was coming because I really didn't. It was a little too tranquil for that.

It started with Quatre asking for help with the analysis handed to him when Trowa assisted with his usual way of doing it. He explained the process in detail while adding his usual derogatory remarks, adding an 'ignorant novice' comment at the end. Quatre didn't look too happy about it. It looked like he was easy to tick off ever since he came in. Trowa should have taken note of that before giving his usual talk.

"Why don't you just say it outright. You don't think I could handle this because you think I'm a child."

"I never said that."

"Sure, you never say it right to my face but you sure tell everyone else that I'm a twelve year old incapable of this… this thing!"

"With outbursts like that, you sure do act like you're twelve. Now stop your whining and get back to work. There are several things to accomplish and I will not tolerate any more of your immaturity."

And so began argument number two. This time, I decided to side with Trowa. After all, Quatre's apparent outburst was a little odd. It didn't seem like the type that could have been provoked by Trowa's behavior. I realized then that Trowa wasn't the only one with the problem. I guess antisocial Trowa finally met his match in the irritable Quatre. Don't provoke either of them, that's the only advice I could give.


	6. Part Five

**Kiss The Sky [Part Five]**

Two words. Tongue hockey. Don't even ask me how it happened. One minute they were at each other's throats and the next minute, they were shoving tongues inside each other's mouths. I left them of course but the scene I witnessed before turning away was quite interesting. I didn't know how they managed to balance themselves on that wobbly chair but they sure did.

I think I should start from the beginning. Quatre came in that day decidedly grumpy. I had no idea what was bothering him and neither did Trowa. We decided it was wise not to aggravate the matter any further so we left him alone. After all, the argument the two had the day before might repeat itself, causing another ugly and bitter parting. Parting ways bitter was never a good way to end a day. 

Quatre did come in the morning, apologizing profusely before gracing him with the most brilliant smile that no one could resist, not even Trowa for that matter. Everything was holding up really well before Trowa made another slip of the tongue. Another one of those comments had Quatre infuriated and before I could even bat an eyelash, Quatre was sent to the monkey cages to clean animal excrement. I would comment on the matter but I decided that I was no longer going to take sides.

While Quatre was cleaning up dung with a frown on his face, Trowa was performing a procedure with one of the younger monkeys. He was jabbing the monkey's brain with a couple of electrodes, making sure to record the results of his test. The electrodes themselves were hooked up to a computer and the steady humming of the machine was lulling. It seemed peaceful enough if not for Quatre's incessant muttering. 

What eventually ticked Trowa off was the fact that his assistant, supposedly the person who was supposed to assist him, was distracting him in more than one way. After all, you didn't just poke those electrodes anywhere, you had to poke them at the right spot - the mid-temporal area specifically. That wasn't very easy when your companion was being annoyingly childish and irresistibly gorgeous at the same time.

In the end, Trowa had to return the monkey back to the cages and postpone his work at a later time, preferably when Quatre was not around. Since there was nothing more productive to do at that time, Trowa began staring at Quatre with those dagger eyes. He was a little too obvious because Quatre noticed it fairly quickly.

"What? Am I not cleaning it up right? Should I use my bare hands?" Quatre asked in anger, all the while cleaning up the cages and not making a move to face him. He must have felt like he was being watched which was true at that time.

By then, Trowa had lost all reason, unable to think up ways to satiate the angered assistant. From the looks of it, he was too tired to argue any more than they did earlier. Instead of going on another heated debate, he went to his desk and retrieved a slip of paper. He stood up and proceeded to Quatre, tapping his shoulder to get his attention.

"What?" Quatre asked, finally turning to face Trowa.

Trowa handed him the piece of paper and then sighed.

"Could I possibly redeem this at this time?" he said. That was clever. I almost forgot about the coupon.

Quatre laughed at that and then shoved Trowa to his chair before giving him that back massage. Yes, I did say back massage. It was a back massage and nothing more. It seemed safe enough to leave for a bit because I wanted to get myself a snack of some sort or even just a drink. Needless to say, when I returned, the back massage turned into the beginnings of a make-out session. 

Good Lord. I leave for a few minutes and all of a sudden Trowa had his assistant straddling him, on the chair, shoving his tongue in his mouth in what looked like a tongue infiltration session. Trowa was holding on to the arms of the chair while Quatre was keeping himself steady by grabbing the back of it. With one stem and three tiny wheels, I had no idea how the chair held up for so long. 

Yup, I ended up outside drinking my orange juice and getting really bored with the sounds coming from inside his lab. It looked like it was going to be a long day, for me at least. I decided that napping was going to be the best alternative - napping outside of course.

As I closed my eyes I heard footsteps coming toward the laboratory. It was faint at first but when I finally realized it, it was too late. A young lady was already knocking on the door, just about ready to enter. I was almost made it in time but I was too late. Before I could even utter a word, I saw her enter, drop her things and let out a fairly loud gasp of surprise. I guess that was the last thing she expected to see upon entering.

"Oh my god," she said, still shocked.

"I know. Tell me about it," I said, not believing it myself. I wasn't about to leave her alone and uncomfortable. I peered back in the room to see how much the two had progressed. Fortunately for the two of us waiting outside, they were still on the chair and still fully dressed. There was only one small change. Trowa's hand was heading for Quatre's behind. Damn! I didn't know he had it in him. 

Quatre was the first to look up, finally realizing that there were people at the door. He didn't act one bit surprised but he did get off the chair to approach his newest visitor.

"May I help you?" he asked. He didn't look annoyed nor did he sound embarrassed considering the situation they were in. I guess years in business taught him to keep a straight face when necessary.

"I was... I was asked to..."

I was pretty sure she wasn't asked to stare at Trowa but she was. I looked at him and found something out of the ordinary. He still was on the chair, holding on to the arms. He looked so relaxed that he no longer cared. So that was what he needed!

"I was asked to come to Dr. Barton for help with my newest research," the woman said, finally able to compose herself although I couldn't say much for Trowa. "I was told that he was the leading expert in this field. Are you Dr. Barton?"

"No but I am his assistant. I might be able to help you. Would you like to come in?"

She nodded and did step in all the while staring at Trowa's satisfied and almost blissful state. Sure it was awkward at first but I was amazed at how well Quatre handled the situation. He got her in and out in no time. She was grateful for the help and I was grateful that it was Quatre who handled her. Trowa would have just spouted something off his extensive vocabulary list, leaving her even more confused than when she first came in. Besides, Quatre was more motivating. Trowa was more degrading.

I think by the end of that talk, playtime was over and Quatre was ready to leave for work. Trowa was still oblivious but all he needed was a little jolt. Quatre went back toward him to give him a lengthy open-mouthed kiss before grabbing his jacket.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said and didn't wait for Trowa to protest before he left.

===

The two of us were back at the cafe waiting for Catherine the following day. She called earlier to tell us that she was going to come by with Jules. It seemed she was more preoccupied with him and felt a little guilty for not attending to her brother more often than she used to. It had been a little over a week since we last saw her. It didn't bother Trowa because while he did miss her constant checking, she deserved some time for herself. That meant that we were going to stay there longer than usual. There was much to talk about especially since Trowa acquired his assistant, or rather, his new make-out partner.

"So, how's my little brother?" Catherine asked, coming in with Jules.

They sat across from Trowa as he nodded in response.

"How does it feel like to boss around a billion dollar man?" Jules asked. There were just too many questions at once. That was the problem with not having enough contact.

Trowa decided that he didn't want to answer that particular question so he sipped his coffee.

"Trowa, you look upset."

He looked up to Catherine to quell her suspicion. There was no need to worry her when the reason for his silence was nothing more than a silly daydream. Indeed, he was somewhere else. I'd never seen the look before but I was pretty sure what it meant. His eyes were glazed over and he looked like he was in la-la land.

"It's called love, Kathy," Jules interrupted, receiving a look of warning from Trowa.

"Trowa! Why didn't you tell me about it?"

It was quite entertaining to watch. Trowa was in a really tight spot and he had no idea how to answer the question.

"Is it your assistant?"

With nothing but questions, the two were able to corner him. They didn't even need answers because it was all in his look.

"Aww, Trowa. You should introduce him to me. Jules mentioned something about the guy being the big boss and all those boring details but I want to hear it from you."

Trowa looked embarrassed and he certainly wasn't about to confirm something he wasn't sure about - at least not yet. So, Trowa did the only thing he could think of. He treated the subject with indifference.

"It's nothing of great importance," he said. "My assistant is nothing but a nuisance. I suggest that we talk about something else."

"C'mon Trowa. He can't be that bad. He's such a great boss after all," Jules said, almost challenging him to evade the questions.

"He's just a child."

The moment he said that, he felt someone stand close to him from behind, whispering something almost inaudible so close to his ear.

"My employees won't respect me if you tell them that."

Trowa turned his head to find Quatre behind him, dressed to kill with a smile on his face. I couldn't tell if Trowa was in trouble at that point but he sure looked fearful for a moment.

"Jules, I see you brought such a lovely lady with you. May I have your name?"

Catherine was surprised to find such a suave, good-looking gentleman and almost blushed at the thought. Meanwhile, Trowa had a look of disbelief on his face.

"Catherine," she said.

Quatre picked up her hand delicately and laid a kiss on top of it.

"It was a pleasure to meet you Catherine."

"Mr. Winner, she's actually Trowa's brother," Jules interjected and Quatre looked at the aforementioned brother.

"Ah, I see good looks run in the family," he said, winking at Trowa. "If you will excuse me Catherine, gentlemen. I just had to make a quick run for some coffee before a meeting. I do hope you forgive my abrupt departure. Perhaps we could arrange another meeting at a more appropriate time?"

"Sure Mr. Winner. I'll set up something."

Quatre made a quick stop at the counter for his coffee and left with a nod to everybody. Trowa stood as he saw the door close.

"Trowa?" Catherine asked, concerned that something was wrong with her brother. "Is there anything wrong?"

"Excuse me," he said and then left through the door.

He walked a couple of steps before he was able to spot Quatre entering a building. With a quick dash and a tap on the other's back, Trowa was able to get his attention. Quatre turned around and was surprised to see him there.

"Why can't you be more mature around me when you're perfectly pleasant around other people?" were the first words that came out of Trowa's mouth. He didn't know why but it just came out. I actually had the same thing in mind.

"Trowa, I'm going to be late," Quatre said, giving him an apologetic smile. "I'll talk to you later, ok?"

Trowa watched as Quatre entered the building in a hurry. I tapped Trowa on the back to remind him that Catherine was still waiting for us at the cafe. He didn't seem to notice and just continued to stare at the large glass doors that lead to the inside of the building. After a few more minutes of silence, he finally said something.

"I won't survive the weekend without seeing him."


	7. Part Six

**Kiss The Sky [Part Six]**

It was late in the afternoon and I was having my snack break, idly watching the students pass by the corridors one by one or in groups. They were chatting on their way to their next class and seemed oblivious to my observing eyes. It had been a few hours since I left Trowa who again could not keep his hands off his assistant. It was bad enough that their daily routine was becoming the talk of the campus. Who would have known that the stuck up Dr. Barton could actually fall for another human being and a gorgeous one at that?

I was becoming quite embarrassed at their situation and I didn't know why. Perhaps it was because I was associated with him? I couldn't really tell. Aside from that, their little activities were starting to get on my nerves. I wasn't jealous. I could tell you that now. I just wanted to make sure that all was best for Trowa. 

Ever since he took up the 'activity', the work we had done on his research was set aside. There were things to do and deadlines to be met. I suppose being on la-la land distracted him enough from the important matters to be dealt with. Sure I wanted him to loosen up a bit but this was getting out of hand. I had no intention of living on the streets even if he were rich in love. I'm a realist and I thought he was one too.

Trowa loved him and I knew that for sure. I had never seen him this happy in all the years I'd known him. Call me selective but I wasn't sure that Quatre was right for him. He did seem like the perfect gentleman with both good looks and a great mind. However, he had some problems and boy did he really have some problems. I thought Trowa had his problems but I guess everyone had their flaws.

Sometimes he was perfectly pleasant to be around and at other times he was a bit too touchy. He could be so sweet and difficult at the same time, leaving the common man clueless as to what was happening inside his mind. The situation left Trowa and I puzzled and clueless as to what was bothering him. If Trowa needed a break once in a while then he probably needed one too.

"I know! Those two are so hot together. I never thought Dr. B could date a human."

Well, that ended my musings and signaled me to get back to the labs to check on the two lovebirds. I wanted to make sure that they were starting on the actual experiments and not dueling with tongues again. Our deadline was coming close and being on time was always important.

I stepped into the room to find Quatre attending to a student while Trowa was in his usual posture, basking in the afterglow of another long French kissing session. It seemed that the students were more interested in getting a glimpse of the latest gossip. I didn't blame them. All of a sudden Dr. Barton went from boring to damn sexy. All it took was a little bit of Quatre.

Another few minutes and they were done with the discussion. At least there was something getting done around the workplace. The seemingly enlightened student made her way out with the rest of her friends inquiring about the abilities of Dr. Barton's assistant; their now preferred tutor if not object of their fantasies.

"It looks to me like they favor simpler explanations," Trowa said as the student closed the door. It was surprising how he transformed from dazed to focused within seconds and it was even more surprising that he didn't already know the answer to that.

"Doesn't everybody?" Quatre answered. At least he didn't point out that the answer was too obvious.

Trowa looked puzzled before voicing out his opinion.

"I always assumed that they preferred to be thought of as intellectuals. Isn't this the reason they come here - to learn from the finest? Talking down on them would be rather insulting, don't you think?"

"I don't think it's called 'talking down on them'," Quatre answered while arranging his papers and putting them inside a folder. "I like to call it talking with them rather than talking to them. Just because you use simpler terms doesn't mean they're simpletons. It's simply the process of everyday social interaction."

I didn't doubt what he said. After all, he seemed to be the epitome of social interaction while Trowa hovered around the other end of the spectrum. It was time someone explained to Trowa the importance of being around and interacting with other people as opposed to keeping to himself all the time.

"Interesting theory" 

Leave it to Trowa to analyze everything as if it were a theory. 

"I'd love to chat more but I have to get going," Quatre said before any further discussions could continue.

"Can't you be a few minutes late?"

I knew he didn't want Quatre to leave. It was all in his look.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Quatre said and went up to him for a quick kiss. 

As soon as he closed the door, his phone started to go off, leaving Trowa to wonder how Quatre handled the demands of busy days. Before he could continue thinking any more about Quatre, his phone went off as well. It was a little unusual for Cathy to be calling at that hour but then very few people really did know that number.

"So did the boss give you any trouble today?"

"What do you want Jules?" Trowa said with a bit of annoyance in his voice. "And how did you get this number?"

"Catherine told me to check up on you. Apparently, based on the way you've been describing Mr. Winner she thinks that the cutie has claws. Now enough about your sister's worries. How was he?"

"Ask him yourself."

"Grumpy, eh? Something tells me that Mr. Winner was especially difficult today."

Trowa made no attempt to say anything but he didn't hang up the phone either.

"It's been crazy here all week," Jules continued, assuming that he'd have to do all the talk. "Are you sure he isn't turning you into a human punching bag?"

The topic was getting a little dull but Trowa was smart enough not to miss an opportunity to learn a little more about his assistant's peculiar temperament. Besides, indulging Jules in a conversation was likely to please his sister as well.

"No Jules. Quatre did not get any mood swings today. Why are you asking such irrelevant questions?"

"Since you asked nicely Trowa," Jules answered in a playful tone. "And since Cathy would kill me if I didn't make sure you were fine, Mr. Winner's been edgy lately."

"Tell me something I don't already know."

"How about this? He comes in on Monday and finds a letter on his table warning him about his impending death, finds out four days later that it was all a prank. It wasn't just any prank by some loser, mind you. Apparently, the losers included some of his 'trusted' board members. When he started to get a little pissy, the secretaries took pictures of him, saying he was the cutest baby they've ever seen. To add to that, the perpetrators commented on how a 'kid' like him shouldn't take such things too seriously."

Trowa winced although he didn't make a sound. He knew just how Quatre hated being treated like a child and especially by his co-workers.

"I tried to be pleasant today."

Trowa didn't know why he defended himself but he did anyway. It was probably because he felt a little guilty for not being more considerate. Most of the time, he couldn't care any less but then the situation was different whenever it came to Quatre.

"What was that?"

I guess even Jules didn't quite understand.

"I said I tried to be nice," Trowa said again. "If that's what you were trying to convince me to do then don't bother."

"Don't take it the wrong way Trowa," Jules answered. "I'm just trying to make proper peace and companionship between you two so Catherine could stop worrying every five minutes."

"The man is difficult Jules and I doubt that he will change soon. The only way would be to help him dig to the root of the problem and right now I have no time for it. Anything more to say Jules?"

"Take him out."

"I am not his babysitter."

"I didn't say anything about babysitting."

"Goodbye Jules. Tell Cathy to take care of herself."

Without hearing out the rest of what Catherine's boyfriend had to say, Trowa put the receiver down and the two of us sat down in companionable silence. All of a sudden, the reason for week's worth of tantrums was slowly coming into light. I didn't think it would be that simple but the clues were so obvious it was insane not to notice. Perhaps the almighty heir couldn't handle being pleasant 24/7. It was just bad luck that Trowa had the wicked opportunity to witness Quatre's true feelings when it came to handling his authority. In some twisted kind of way, he should have been flattered that Quatre was true to him but when you think about it more deeply Trowa was also at the bad end of the pole. It was certainly difficult to be in that position.

===

That night at around eleven, there was a knock on the door of our apartment and although we both looked like we were run over by a truck, Trowa opened the door. We were embarrassed, of course, to find Quatre before us wearing one provocative yet decent ensemble while we were wearing nothing but ragged shirts and boxers.

"You should always check the door before opening it," Quatre said as his first greeting.

Trowa stared, not taking in any of the words that came out of Quatre's mouth but he instead concentrated on the scene before him. I just had to run for some decent clothes to at least look presentable. Trowa had a different idea. He just stood there like an idiot and continued to stare.

"Let's go. We're going to be late."

"You're here to pick me up for what?" Trowa asked and I wondered what the special occasion was. 

"Didn't Jules tell you we were going out?"

There was no way to refuse Quatre then especially when he looked too good to resist. Jules was one sneaky bastard and a good strategist at that. I didn't really know what Trowa thought about it but I was definitely going. I wasn't about to give up an opportunity to go out after being stuck in the labs for so long. I didn't care what Trowa decided to do because I was sure that I was going. I needed fresh air.

"Let's go."

Trowa stepped aside and literally ran to his room to change into more appropriate clothing. Maybe I guessed wrong. He certainly looked enthusiastic enough to go along with Jules' plan for the night. Within a few minutes he was dressed and ready to go, not looking too excited this time but indifferent like he always did.

Everything went fast that night as well. In the blink of an eye, we were in a club in a part of town I was not familiar with. Jules came with Catherine which was not a big surprise and Quatre dragged Trowa through the crowds. They stumbled through moving bodies and made their way through, eventually reaching the other two. Catherine's first greeting was to drag Trowa out of the chair he recently sat on and into the dance floor.

"Let's dance Trowa," she said while her reluctant brother made sure to plaster his feet to the ground.

"I just got here," he said and didn't budge.

"You're late. Jules and I have been dancing for the past half hour. I need a new partner."

Trowa stood his ground and looked like he wasn't going to leave even if his sister pleaded. Quatre was watching the scene and decided to save them both the trouble. With a gorgeous smile he reached out his hand to Catherine who raised and eyebrow in question.

"Don't you prefer a willing partner?" he shouted over the loud music.

With no one else willing, Catherine dragged Quatre to the dance floor and began moving. They seemed comfortable enough with each other so Trowa decided to get himself a drink. There was a little part of him that claimed jealousy but with a little effort and a rowdy conversation with Jules, his dark mood was alleviated. Every now and then, he would look at his assistant, his eyes glazed over and his mouth open as he watched him move with absolute grace.

As the night wore on, Trowa noticed something amiss. It had been a few hours and he still didn't get his chance to dance with Quatre. Sure, he looked like a stiff but he would be crazy to miss an opportunity to get that close. It seemed everyone wanted a piece of his 'date', going as far as to drag him all over the place no matter how exhausted he looked. He hadn't been given a break since he arrived. Trowa's thoughts of jealousy turned into those of pity.

It was late at night (or I should say early morning) when Quatre finally sat down next to Trowa. By that time, Catherine and Jules were rested enough to begin another round of dancing. Trowa didn't say a word and didn't attempt to bring up anything. Although he did notice suspicious characters with cameras sneaking around the place, he let it pass. From the looks of it, certain gossip columnists were watching Quatre's every move, hoping to get a hot story on the front page of their papers. Despite all that, Quatre didn't seem irate. He was smiling the same way he did all night.

"Trowa, could I ask you a favor?" he said.

Trowa nodded a yes before he was pulled all the way to the dark side of the bar. They were alone there and it was almost too dark not to see a thing. Trowa's breath caught in his throat as Quatre advanced, leaning on him. My eyes were the size of saucers as I saw what was going on. That was the last thing I would have expected from Quatre especially when there were too many people watching. Two minutes later and I found out my suspicions were wrong because instead of doing what I thought he would, Quatre latched his arms onto Trowa's neck and placed his head on his shoulder.

"Hide me," he whispered in the dark before passing out.


	8. Part Seven

**Kiss The Sky [Part Seven]**

Quatre was nowhere to be seen that day and despite his absence or better yet, because he was absent, Trowa was able to complete the materials he needed for his upcoming presentation. All that was needed was a little practice and a little sprinkle of charisma to win the crowd over. Given those two elements, he was sure to get the grant we needed for our continuing research. Now if only Trowa had that winning personality...

In a way Trowa felt relieved that the preparations were over but he was miserable because he knew that Quatre would no longer be a part of his so-called team. Very soon, their non-existent relationship was going to be over.

He was used to being alone, mind you. It was just that he had learned to be around other people that the thought of isolation sounded less appealing than it used to. Believe me. I didn't want it for him either. After all, I planned this to be a long term engagement. Trowa needed someone not for a few minutes or for a couple of weeks. He needed someone other than me to keep him sane enough to discover the rest of his life. It was a bad idea to take Quatre away, especially when he'd fallen deeply in love.

Everything else seemed to slow down that day. Nobody came into Trowa's door and it was unusually silent. Even the monkeys didn't protest when their cages were being cleaned out. It was as if Quatre had become part of our little routine, one that wasn't easy to modify. 

We went home that day still bored out of our minds. To our surprise and our delight, Quatre was by our front door, ready to greet us as we came in. From the looks of it, he had just gotten out of work. His tie was undone and he was holding his jacket.

"Hi," he said.

Trowa nodded in greeting and opened the door before letting us all in.

"You should be home resting," Trowa started. It was a simple enough statement. I didn't expect him to sound any more concerned than he was willing to let out.

"I missed today's lab meeting," Quatre said, ignoring the statement and coming in to sit on the couch.

"It's of no consequence," Trowa answered before going straight for the kitchen. "Do you prefer fish or meatloaf?"

Quatre blinked, probably not expecting Trowa to cook him anything. I was surprised too. I didn't know Trowa knew how to cook anything edible. How come he never cooked me anything?

"You don't have to make me anything," Quatre answered, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable at being served.

"Don't worry. It's pre-cooked. Cathy came by earlier today. She said something about needing to eat real food as opposed to junk."

"That was nice of her."

Yes, indeed. I thank the heavens for his sister. If it weren't for Catherine, Trowa and I would be rotten corpses by now.

"So what will it be? Fish or meatloaf?"

"Fish."

Trowa placed the containers into the oven and took out bottles of water before returning to where Quatre was. He handed him one and sat across from him.

"It's the only type of drink I keep around here," he said.

Quatre nodded and they both sat in silence. I didn't know what was going on but the air seemed a little too stale. Perhaps it was just boredom on my part or maybe it was Trowa taking notice of Quatre's sullen look. The look didn't quite fit the picture.

"It's malnutrition."

"Excuse me?" Quatre asked a little puzzled. I was surprised as well. That was the last thing I expected out of Trowa's mouth.

"It's malnutrition," Trowa said again before sitting back on the couch and eyeing his guest. "It's what Catherine proposed and I agree. You drink nothing but coffee and I've never seen you sit for a proper meal before."

Quatre was quiet with his head down, just like the times when Trowa would give those long lectures on being mature and the moral value of cleaning up monkey dung. This time around, he seemed quiet for a different reason.

"She suggested proper meals," Trowa continued. "I honestly would have preferred intravenous feeding."

Quatre looked up at him surprised. Trowa had a smirk on his face and his arms were crossed. So, he was trying to brighten the mood. Good for him. It was time I spent less time with grumps.

"You really do look like a twelve year old sometimes Quatre Winner," he said.

"And you are a pompous, arrogant professor Dr. Barton," Quatre countered. "But thanks for bringing me home last night."

"No problem," Trowa answered before the oven made that resounding ping, signaling that dinner was ready.

By then, the tension in the room was gone and Trowa took the food out of the oven before inviting Quatre to join him at the table. It was nice to see them amiably together, especially since they were not screaming at each other or involving themselves in mindless French kissing. That's when I saw that they really could work together. They complemented each other in a way I could never have guessed possible. Trowa's anti-social tendencies and Quatre's unpredictable behavior made them a strange but harmonized pair. They regulated each other's tendencies.

When dinner was over, they went back to our tiny living room and Trowa proceeded to stuff several stacks of papers into his bag. Meanwhile, Quatre was fidgeting, looking almost unsure of what he wanted to say. I hoped that it was nothing bad, at least for Trowa's sake.

"Trowa," he said before Trowa looked up at him. "I won't be coming in tomorrow either."

Trowa stopped and then stared. He didn't seem fazed and didn't ask for the reason. He merely shrugged. He didn't fool me. I was pretty sure that he didn't like it one bit.

"But," Quatre said as if to save the pleasant evening we were having, "I could come by tomorrow and help you with the presentation. You know, give you a few pointers on how to handle the rich, snobbish business people."

"That would be nice," Trowa answered, his mood brightening a bit. "After all, you're a rich, snobbish business person yourself."

Quatre smiled and stood up from his seat, sitting down next to Trowa. Without saying anything, he placed his head down on Trowa's shoulder with a sigh.

"I'm tired Trowa," he said. He sounded almost too sure that Trowa would take over.

Much to my surprise, Trowa did. He pulled him up from the couch and lead him into his room. He placed him under the covers and made sure that he was asleep before coming out of the room and closing the door. I was looking at him and it was either he didn't notice me or didn't care to answer my inquiries. He went back to the couch and began arranging his papers again. That was the last thing I remembered before I went to bed and succumbed to sleep as well.

When I woke up in the morning, Quatre was already gone and Trowa was slowly getting up from his position on the couch. I didn't bother calling him as I walked toward the door to retrieve the piece of paper stuck to it.

"Trowa," it said. "I'll be back tonight at around nine or ten. Since you have all the data ready, maybe we could arrange the figures for the presentation tonight. Quatre. P.S. Thanks for the cozy bed. : )"

===

The following day in school was close to disaster. Somehow, Trowa misinterpreted Quatre's departure from his 'team' as a result of the department's hasty decision-making. True, he wasn't screaming or being louder than he normally was but it was a riot nonetheless. He looked calm enough but what did cause the commotion was the fear that Dr. Barton was unhappy. It was enough to stir up a sense of fear from those that wanted to keep him at the university. His mere presence evoked fear and his burning look demanded an explanation.

As it turned out, Quatre did not leave as a result of departmental decision after all. Instead, he had chosen to do so, filing a leave of absence from the university. It seemed odd to me since Trowa and I were both under the impression that Quatre had the passion for school, certainly treasuring it more than his busy hours at the office.

Trowa was a little more than agitated half of the day, wondering just why Quatre decided to leave. The factors that contributed to his frustration were somewhat ambiguous but the hints were there. Perhaps it was the way he had treated his assistant or perhaps Quatre had lost interest in the subject matter Trowa was most passionate about. It bothered him more than he would care to admit and the result was an overwhelming desire to ask him the reason for such a sudden change in plans.

At around ten o'clock, back in our apartment, there was a knock on the door signaling the arrival of our visitor. Quatre arrived just as stated earlier and Trowa was more than ready to greet him when he came in. Before the second knock even occurred, the door had been swung open, much to Quatre's surprise. He was ushered toward the living room with Trowa looking compelled to ask him questions.

By then, Quatre had already read his mind. He had the knowing look on his eyes that signaled that Trowa didn't need to say a word. He took out his jacket and undid his tie before sitting down and beginning the explanation he knew Trowa wanted.

"I had to choose," he started. "Work or school. People have been noticing that I was preoccupied with something else. Stock holders could really get a little too jumpy when they see the smallest bit of change in the company - or as my advisors explained - changes in me. I can't let down the people who depend on me Trowa. It wouldn't be fair to them."

Trowa sat down and nodded. He was actually agreeing with it. I didn't believe he would go that easy and I couldn't believe he bought the excuse. I wasn't agreeing with it one bit. I needed more than that. A company just couldn't count on one person to keep it on top. The pressure was just a little too high for someone like Quatre. He needed to live the way he wanted to and not the way others said he should. I guess there were some consequences to being the richest.

"Let's have dinner then," Trowa said and proceeded to put the food in the oven.

Quatre looked crestfallen and I almost hit Trowa on the head. He could have at least been a little more sensitive.

Dinner was quiet as was I. Thank goodness it was quick as well. I just couldn't stand the silence. It seemed that there had been too much of it recently. Even I couldn't brighten their moods. I just looked like an idiot trying to talk to unresponsive people. When they were done, I went ahead and made myself comfortable in the living room. There was no need for me to hang around the despondent. 

They spent the rest of the night practicing with Quatre giving necessary pointers. It was his expertise, after all. He knew how to attract people to something and he knew exactly what people wanted to see. Every aspect was taken into detail whether Trowa thought it necessary or not. For the first time since they met, Quatre was the teacher and Trowa was his faithful student. It may have gotten a little out of hand at some point but I judged it to be smoother than I had initially expected.

"The cortical area MT," Trowa said, practicing his presentation, complete with the slides and figures, "has been found to be an area where motion..."

"What's MT?" Quatre suddenly interrupted.

"Mid Temporal."

"Then you should say it or better yet, don't use the word temporal."

"It's a convention used..." Trowa explained before being cut off again by Quatre. 

"It's a convention in your area but someone else will dismiss the vague word," Quatre said. "Talk to me like you would a novice. That's the only way you're going to get your message through."

"You know what I mean. I told you this before."

"Ah, but they won't know what you mean. They'll filter unfamiliar words and you'll end up uninteresting. Making them fall asleep won't gain you their confidence. Intimidating them would only distance you further. I'm sure that you wouldn't want to be given an opportunity based only on your sheer brilliance alone. After all, isn't that the reason why the school keeps you? They don't understand a thing you're trying to do nor do they care much about your ideas and yet they keep you for your worth."

Trowa looked at him. I looked at him too but the only difference was that my mouth was hung wide open. It never occurred to me that Quatre was that perceptive of Trowa's situation. I was never that blunt to speak out to Trowa what we both knew was the case. Maybe Quatre really did understand him, enough that his companionship was more than just a continual presence. 

"Think about it. I'll come back tomorrow at around the same time," Quatre said after the temporary silence.

"Stay over," Trowa said as he grabbed Quatre's forearm to keep him from leaving.

"Everyone was looking for me last night. I don't want them to worry unnecessarily. Besides, the police did not appreciate 'delinquent teenagers' as they dubbed me this morning," Quatre said and then winked.

"Too many worrisome servants," Trowa muttered before letting go. 

Quatre smiled and then gave Trowa a light peck on the cheek before picking up his jacket and leaving. The two of us were left with nothing to do. It was getting dull once again.

"He won't be coming back when it's all done," Trowa suddenly said whether to me or himself, I couldn't really tell. "I never knew it would be this difficult to fall in love with someone."


	9. Part Eight

**Kiss The Sky [Part Eight]**

I guess you could say that the next couple of days of practice were a lot less serious but a lot more involved than the first. Seriously, the two couldn't get through a single chart without lip locking at some point. They were lucky enough to get through four of them polished and memorized. I was getting tired of it but they didn't look like they were going to let up soon.

I was staring at chart number four of brain impulses. Quatre, however, was pointing at figure number five, flushed, with lips swollen from their previous 'session'.

"No more of that until you get this one right," he said although even if he were serious, Trowa didn't look like he cared. "Now then, what's this funny Y-figure supposed to mean?"

"Pre...gang...lionic...syn...ap...sing," Trowa drawled out, not really paying attention to the figure itself but on Quatre's half-exposed chest. Hmm, I guess I didn't notice it until now. Damn, Quatre's chest was creamy white, so smooth-looking too.

"Wake up Trowa. What did we say about complicated words?"

This time, Trowa was getting irritable. I would too if I were him. He was tired and probably brain dead by then - not just from getting his presentation right but also from trying to stop himself from devouring his assistant.

Come to think of it, I couldn't figure out how they were keeping up. Quatre came by twenty minutes late and that was already a late start considering that it was already eleven pm by then. He looked about ready to drop to the ground with his hair mussed up and his clothes in disarray... So, ok, that makes no difference from the way he looks now but trust me, his earlier look was a lot less pleasant than this one. In fact, he had another little temper tantrum, one that scared me out of my skin. I'm still wondering what brought it on in the first place - must be Trowa's smart mouth.

"Forget complicated words," Trowa said. "I'm tired of trying to stoop down to such a low level. Look at all these brain parts. How am I supposed to say preganglionic synapsing with cholinergic nicotinic receptors in a non-complicated way?"

Quatre sighed and I prepared myself for the worst. It was slowly starting to turn ugly because they were both tired. It was only a matter of time.

"Look, I'm not telling you to say something far from what you said. Why not just say adrenalin rush?"

"Because it's incorrect. It's only half of the adrenalin system."

Quatre rolled his eyes and I did too.

"Trowa, can't you understand that saying high up words and looking high up won't get you the people's attention."

"And what was that supposed to mean?"

That was it. I knew there was trouble. I should have probably stopped it before it even began but I didn't feel like I could've stopped it. It was bound to come up eventually. 

"I meant that not everyone is a genius. You won't get anyone to understand you until you give up that low view of everyone else. You're obviously trying to shove everyone off. This isn't about being the best. It's about being part of the rest."

"Don't tell me how to live," Trowa hissed, pulling up the shirt that was falling off his shoulders. He was really angry this time. "I'm not taking this lecture from someone who lets himself be pushed around and who obviously forgot to leave his temper tantrums in grade school."

Dear, sweet... I finally find out that Trowa had it in him. Quatre didn't look like he was going to back down either. After all, he always had the little power streak going on whenever he was around Trowa.

"Like I said when we first met Dr. Barton," Quatre said with a stern look and an emphasis on the word 'doctor'. "I know what your problem is."

He came closer to Trowa and situated his face a few inches away. Trowa still hadn't given up the look of anger on his usually passive face.

"You think you know everything well enough to decide that you don't need anyone but yourself. Better to continue and enjoy the company of yourself because that's the only company you'll ever have."

Ouch!

With that said Quatre picked up his jacket and put it on hastily before opening the door. I suppose he was too distracted to remember to button up his shirt. 

With his back facing Trowa, he said something in such a soft whisper that I almost didn't hear it.

"I was a fool thinking that I could get through to you."

The door clicked shut and I was left speechless. I knew better than to question Trowa lest I wanted my head cut off. I just watched as he picked up his things and arranged them off to the corner of the room. He looked very peeved as he marched to the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

===

The next few days were too quiet. In fact, it was so quiet that I was beginning to memorize brain parts on the figures. Fine, so call me weird. I was bored. That's what I did when I was bored. Hippocampus and hypothalamus - I always seemed to get the two mixed up.

"Your mail, Dr. Barton."

Mail service? That was new. I didn't know we now had special deliveries. I just watched Trowa as he went through each one of them. I was hoping that at least one of it was from Quatre. I had no such luck. I suppose Trowa was hoping for it too because he frowned right after he reached the last piece of mail. Another quiet week was ahead of us.

"So, it's finally here."

I looked up to find Trowa reading though a letter. It looked like something important so I went ahead and took a peek.

His research was finally approved. It seemed that we were now allowed to conduct the rest of the experiments. Along with the letter came another note from the department - another surprise. It was a congratulatory letter for Trowa's work plus a short list of possible companies interested in supporting the research. Apparently, the people in that department had done all the work researching the most interested companies and scheduling appointments for Trowa's presentation.

I guess you could say that he was their baby, their big baby. All the work was practically done. Imagine having the department providing him with an excellent assistant and scheduling everything for him. It was obvious that he was more than just another educator. He was a prized possession.

It was probably that knowledge that fueled Trowa's belief in himself and in his abilities. I didn't think he had an ego problem. He was just out of touch with the lower life forms, just as Quatre had mentioned a few nights earlier.

"Ten companies," he suddenly said. "That might be a little too much work."

"Nah," I said. "You'd pull it off with the first one. "Unless, of course, you'd want to go through the painstaking work of repeating that presentation over and over again until someone is satisfied."

"Then I'll have to do my best on the first one."

"What's the first company on the list?" I asked.

Trowa didn't answer me and just stood there with a look of pure horror on his face. I wanted to know why he reacted that way so I looked at the list over his shoulder. There in bold letters was the name of the first company on the list - Winner Enterprises, Inc.

Now that was certainly going to be tough. Maybe the University had the plan conjured up all along. They had it planned out long before I made my move to get Quatre into the research. They had done it ahead of time and thought up the best way to ensure Trowa's success. What better way was there than to have Trowa meet and work with the big boss himself? That way, the two would know each other well enough to secure a surefire grant approval. It was just dirty.

Little did they know that putting the two together had its disadvantages as well. Take the recent fight for example. There was no way I could see them act civilly in front of wads and wads of scrutinizing board members. The prearranged meeting and well-planned scheme had it flaws. It was really getting on my nerves. I had this plan thought up long before them.

"Stupid move but I'm not backing out of this."

I would have knocked Trowa around senseless if I could. His pride was getting in the way and I feared that there would be a scream-fest at the umpteenth floor of the tallest building in the city. Those two breaking into a fight seemed inevitable. I just had to talk some sense into Trowa before the presentation in three days.

Three days didn't seem long enough but it was up to me to calm him down and make him realize that he did something wrong, never mind that Quatre had his own problems going on as well.

"Trowa," I asked. "You aren't still mad at Quatre, are you?"

He didn't answer. It didn't matter. He had to answer me sooner or later.

"The tension in the room alone would keep you off guard and you won't be able to concentrate on what you have to say. I know you well enough to predict that."

Again, there was no response.

"Look Trowa, if you're going to go through with this, you might try to sort out your anger and be reasonable."

He seemed convinced but still didn't answer.

"He's not just an extra set of hands in the labs, right?"

This time he answered 'yes' without hesitation. I was encouraged to go on.

"Think carefully about what he said."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"You're not helping me."

"Do you believe that you could kiss the sky?" I asked all of a sudden. Believe me when I say that I had a point to that question.

"What?"

"I asked you if you believe that you could kiss the sky."

"What kind of question was that?"

I knew it was difficult to go along with my line of thinking but I just had to make my point and the question was part of the point.

"Just answer me please."

He sighed before giving in to my question. I was glad he did or else we would never have moved on from the topic.

"No," he said and didn't follow it up with an explanation. Sometimes he was just too stubborn.

"Why's that?" I insisted on asking.

"Because from my perspective, the sky is infinite. Sure, there's the concept of the heavens and all that childish nonsense. The idea of kissing the sky should be left to the dreamers and romanticists. I believe in more concrete and logical things so I am not inclined to think of the possibilities of such foolishness."

Perfect. I knew I had to follow it up before I lost my point.

"Is that why you became a scientist?"

"Yes."

"Then tell me why you try to find answers to such seemingly illogical things."

"My research is grounded in reality," he defended.

"Look Trowa, you think you can't reach him can you? You think he's just a passing wind - something you can't possibly keep. It's just pathetic the way we've been living. I, for one, will not stand and watch you give this up and go on again with our useless, everyday existence. The monkeys are starting to get on my nerves and the lab equipment has become a bane to my existence."

"He's a little too perfect."

Ok, I thought that he was starting to get a little delusional right there. Maybe he was missing the point of what I was trying to say.

"Please explain to me how mister 'I'm pissy right now because you said I'm cute' is perfect," I said.

"He's perfectly flawed," Trowa answered and thank goodness he cleared that out. I was beginning to think that he was going completely insane.

"He's something I never dealt with before," Trowa continued. "And besides, he's absolutely adorable when he comes in with the oversized coat and glasses blowing off steam and looking miffed when I tell him to clean off the monkey cages."

I had to agree to that. In fact, I'd yet to find out if the lenses on his glasses were real. 

So, Trowa was feeling better. That was good because I was starting to feel better too. I was starting to get good ideas once again.

"What do you say you practice that presentation one more time tonight and then let's use that cuteness factor to cook up a surprise?"

He nodded and I smiled a wicked smile. This was going to be fun.


	10. Part Nine

**Kiss The Sky [Part Nine]**

I don't know how we managed to do it but Trowa and I were ready by the time the scheduled meeting was due. To tell you the truth I was a little nervous. Trowa may know a lot but I wasn't sure if he would be able to execute the perfect performance he'd done just the night before. I guess all that was left to do was to wait and see if his practice paid off.

The answers did come quickly in a surprisingly pleasant manner the afternoon I feared for. Who knew that the two could actually act civilized despite their earlier conflict? Now here I was with Trowa outside one of the boardrooms, looking rather exhausted but content.

A few minutes passed before Quatre finally came out of the judgment room, as we liked to call it. He paused to look at Trowa who was sitting on the rather stiff looking chair before inviting him back in. He was lead to a seat at the other end of the table as the various members of the board looked at him.

"Congratulations Dr. Barton," Quatre's voice said in the still silence. "Your research is now in full support by Winner Enterprises."

What followed were sounds of hands clapping against each other and mounds of congratulatory remarks from the people in the room. The victorious mood was followed by questions and words of awe for the young man that had such a brilliant mind despite his lack of years.

Quatre smiled, looking at the small crowd gathering before Trowa before he cleared his throat to get back the attention of the people in the room.

"If you will excuse me, Dr. Barton," he said with all eyes now on him. "My board will discuss with you all the necessary paperwork as well as the specifications of your grant. Please feel free to ask them any questions. I apologize for leaving so soon but I have other business to attend to."

Trowa nodded in understanding while the crowd before him went back to their original seats. Papers came out of nowhere and calculators were strewn all over the place. During all of the commotion, Quatre stood and left. The atmosphere seemed less comfortable but we decided to stay put and endure the rest of the bureaucratic details. Quatre would surely be available at a latter time.

Two hours later, everything was ready. All Trowa wanted to do by then was look for Quatre, his motivation sending him right to the front of the huge oak doors that lead to his office.

"May I help you sir?" the secretary said from behind the desk. She looked troubled to see an unfamiliar face by Quatre's door. I would too if there was nobody listed for appointments at that hour.

"Is he back yet?"

It wasn't difficult to figure out who he was referring to. To this, the secretary answered immediately, hoping that Trowa would not barge in unannounced. She looked a little miffed too.

"He just got back from a long meeting. Do you have an appointment?"

"No," came the curt reply.

"Sir, you're going to have to schedule one. Mr. Winner has another meeting to attend to in an hour."

Trowa opened the door, ignoring the protests from the secretary.

"Don't worry," he said before stepping in. It seemed that the two words were all that was needed because he made it all the way in the office without being called to or stopped again. Sometimes I just loved that commanding tone.

The first thing we saw when we entered was Quatre sitting on a huge chair that looked almost too big for him. He had his elbows up on the desk with his folded hands supporting his forehead. He didn't notice Trowa come in as he lifted his head and closed his eyes. He sat back on the chair and his fingers immediately went to massage his temple.

"Is this a bad time?"

Caught unguarded, Quatre sat up as if he were expecting someone to reprimand him for slouching down on his chair. He blinked his eyes open and focused them on the person at the door.

"I'd appreciate it if you knocked," he said and proceeded to adjust his clothing. One sip of his coffee and he looked ready for anything.

"Congratulations again Dr. Barton," he said. "You've won the respect of my hard to please board members. How may I help you?"

Trowa noticed the formality in Quatre's voice and his manner of speaking despite having no one else in the room but them. He didn't seem upset with Trowa because of their recent argument but he looked detached and the room felt somewhat cold.

It was unnerving, to say the least, to see the type of reaction from the usually cheerful man. He may have had his bouts of hissy fits but overall, he was one easy-going type of person. He was kind of like a child with his bright approach. Trowa thought the change in behavior was a little odd. I thought it was downright scary. 

It didn't take him much to realize that the person before him was the Quatre he wanted the man to be - a professional, a serious adult. It was unexpected and Trowa decided that it was certainly not what he wanted to see now.

He stood by the door, surprised by the sudden maturity but somewhat relieved that the other didn't seem to hold a grudge.

"I came to thank you," he finally said before closing the door behind him.

"There's no need to thank me. After all, it was you who stood there and did all the work."

There was no tension in the air but there was a stale, monotonous feel to the room. I was beginning to feel dizzy.

"Ah, but you helped me and I think it's not fair that I presented to you the same material I presented you night after night after night. That would only predispose you to agree with everything I say. Therefore, your decision won't be fair unless I show you a different perspective on what I presented earlier."

Quatre smiled and folded his hands on top of the desk. He made no move to say anything and instead eyed Trowa. If he would have wanted to protest he didn't show any sign of it.

"I've brought the materials," Trowa said before lifting his rather large bag. "Would you honor me by listening to another one of my boring brain chatter?"

"Do as you wish Dr. Barton." Quatre answered. "You do understand that this has no bearing on the earlier decision?"

"Yes."

"I'm all ears."

I took a deep breath as Trowa arranged board after board of unknown content and placed them on a threefold stand. He cleared his throat and I silently cheered him on before he started.

"I present to you the foreign body," he started, revealing the image behind the first board. "Notice the large head and the small, chubby body. Notice also the large blue green eyes that grace its head."

Quatre looked incredulous. What could I say? Was I a genius or what? Before his eyes was an adorable image of himself, drawn to the proportions of a deformed but perceptibly adorable child. He looked like he would have wanted to laugh but he was too surprised to do so.

Trowa took out the image to reveal the next board which had a profile image of Trowa's head or rather, his brain. The only noticeable signature of Trowa on the image was the long, pointy bangs that were sticking out of the head.

"The human brain is complex," he continued. "In fact, the hippocampus holds much information, more specifically; it contains one's memories, successes and accomplishments."

Quatre was watching and I was holding back a snicker. The look on his face was just priceless.

"Imagine a scenario where the foreign body invades the brain and lodges itself in the hippocampus," Trowa explained and revealed the next board. "At first the brain will reject the foreign body, it being used to its normal functioning."

I was all ears. This was what we'd been practicing all night.

"Eventually, the brain gets used to the foreign body, accepting it as part of its system. They live in symbiosis wherein one relies on the other. However, there comes a time when the foreign body decides to leave. The first reaction of the brain is to deteriorate because the departure of the now symbiotic foreign body is more dangerous than its initial appearance."

Quatre looked at him with those awfully large eyes and I had to guess that he did get the meaning behind the little analogy. It wasn't that difficult to decipher after all. It was my main point last night. Be subtle but be simple enough to follow.

Trowa smiled and I almost died. It was getting better by the moment.

"Trowa?"

It was the first time throughout the course of the day that Quatre had called him by his first name.

Leaving the board behind, Trowa approached Quatre who still looked somewhat dazed, his eyes tired from a previous engagement.

"You look tired," he said and then came closer to whisper something into his ear. "I'm sorry."

"I know," Quatre said before leaning back on his chair. "I'm sorry too."

"Let me take you out for lunch. Cathy's been pestering me about feeding you something nutritious."

"We can't go out for lunch because it's time for dinner."

"Hmm?"

"It's already seven."

"The let's go," Trowa insisted, pulling him off the chair.

"Wait. I can't go right now. I have to meet a client in a few minutes."

"I'll be waiting then."

We then left the office as quickly as we entered and prepared for our next step. By the time Trowa was dressed and ready, Quatre came into the door of the restaurant breathing heavily. The poor thing probably had to make a run for it.

"Quatre, you're late," Trowa said and Quatre's response was to look at him in question.

"What? Trowa? I though we were meeting later? I'll talk to you later. I have to attend to this one first."

"Mr. Winner, are you telling me that you're refusing your seven fifteen appointment and to think that it took me weeks to schedule this."

"What?"

Quatre was confused. Who wouldn't be? I was such a genius.

"No. Wait," he said as he fished through his pockets to retrieve his electronic organizer. "I'm here to meet a Mr.... Barton?" Quatre looked at it again to make sure that it was indeed what he read. He smacked his forehead.

Trowa chuckled but Quatre did not look pleased.

"So," he started again. "How long is this Mr. Barton going to keep you?"

Quatre looked back down on his organizer and gasped in surprise. 

"A... a whole week?"

"My, my, I wonder what he intends to do with you."

"Trowa?"

"You know Quatre, the monkeys have been missing you. Their cages haven't been minty fresh for the past few days."

"What?"

The poor thing was thoroughly confused and I had to jab Trowa to make him stop. I think Quatre needed a breather after that one.

"What?" Quatre asked again. He almost looked like he was going to cry. Damn those eyes were huge and they were getting to me. Maybe I picked the wrong method. It might have been a little too cruel.

"I'm just teasing," Trowa said but he was still chuckling. "You do look more twelve-ish than usual."

Quatre finally sat down by one of the tables bug-eyed. I bet he didn't know that I had this planned all along. Of course I wouldn't just get Trowa a match-up and throw him into the mound to fight for himself. I was concerned about him after all. We only had each other and I just knew this day would come. I was always one step ahead.

"I thought," Quatre started before being cut off.

"You thought I was going to be a snob and let you go off without another word. You thought I preferred my work to you so much that I would forfeit human interaction just to be above the rest. You thought that I wouldn't grow up. You thought right but then you proved me wrong."

Quatre looked like he was taking it all in. It was a good thing Trowa stopped for a bit because he didn't look like he would be able to follow if the explanation went on and on. After all, he wasn't replenished from the day's labor.

"You taught me what it is to finally live so let me show you how I intend to live. Let me show you how much we can learn from each other."

Quatre hung his head backwards with his neck being supported by the back of the chair. I was a little worried that he didn't believe a word of what Trowa said.

"You know," he said after looking up to the ceiling and smiling. "I think I'd like you to take care of me."

Trowa proceeded directly into Quatre's line of view which was directly above his head. He must have looked even stranger upside down than he was upright with his eccentric hairstyle.

"Why not?" he said, his face still hovering above Quatre's. I thought his hair was going to poke Quatre's eyes out.

By that time, most of the people in the tables around them were looking at what was going on. The two stayed oblivious to everything else but each other.

"Deal then?" Quatre asked.

"Deal," Trowa said before giving him an upside down kiss. How he maneuvered his hair to stay out of the way remained a mystery to me.

I smiled this time with pride. My efforts were not lost in vain after all. This was what I had hoped for - something for Trowa, something that would offer us both an internal tranquility. This was heaven for me and I was sure that it was for him too.

"Whenever I'm with you I feel like I could almost kiss the sky," Trowa said.

Funny. At that moment, I thought that I could almost kiss the sky as well.


	11. Epilogue

**Kiss The Sky [Epilogue]**

Sometimes life gets so tiresome you don't know what you're supposed to do about it. You tell yourself that the way you live your life is flawless, believing that all things are the way they should be. You achieve more than anyone else before you has and you become so jaded that you don't even attempt to communicate with the rest of the world. What happens when your lie is so intricate that it leads to an eventual truth? What happens when the lie is more than just a lie?

I've known Trowa Barton all my life. I've lived through all his tantrums, depression, and indifference. His life used to be one of endless monotony but I've seen through it all and have finally found my peace. In fact, I am proud to report that he is now happily involved with someone. His sister has also found herself engaged to Jules. Remember him, the guy who works for Quatre? It seems Trowa's preoccupation with someone else other than himself gave Cathy the opportunity to make a relationship work for her too. It's just fabulous the way things have changed. Is everything perfect, you ask? Not the least bit.

Trowa argues with Quatre almost non-stop. They do take momentary breathers for their tongue-hockey sessions. In fact, tongue-hockey has now progressed to the art of hickey-crafting. Those two would walk around with hickeys the size of dollar coins, not the least bit ashamed about showing them off. Flagrant disregard of decency? No. I'd say it's unabashed pride for their newfound happiness.

So alright, hickey marks may be more than just about pride. Those two are so bizarre it drives the common man to tears. Here's the perfect scenario. It's three pm and Quatre comes into the lab to assist Trowa. Before he could start his first sentence, his phone goes off, which causes him to hurl it across the room and into the trash bin. Imagine how many of those things he buys on a regular basis. Things are going smoothly when all of a sudden, Trowa asks Quatre to help him out, forgetting to stop himself from saying something thoughtless. Quatre reacts and before you know it, they're screaming like uncivilized monkeys. In fact, the monkeys join in. Trowa's lab is turned into the pits of hell. 

Ten minutes later, they're so tired from screaming that they have to stop. During that time, Trowa sits down to catch his breath but the problem is it never happens. Before he could breathe out, he'd be breathing through Quatre's mouth, which slowly makes its way to his neck. You can guess how entranced the students waiting outside the lab would be when they see what's going on inside. Thank goodness Trowa hasn't been kicked out yet.

I must admit that I do enjoy all the little oddities. It's the strange sequence of events that keep Trowa alive. In fact, it's changed him a lot. He's no longer the uptight man he used to be but he could still be a pompous jerk when given the chance. Some things are hard to change, of course. His research has been progressing well enough and his monkeys are as happy as ever. Who wouldn't be happy if you had Quatre cleaning out your poop for you? His students are now twice as likely to come to class to listen to his boring lectures. Why? Because he knows how to deal with them; he's learned how to deal with people.

What about Quatre, you ask? He's been progressing too. In fact, he brings Trowa to work with him after they leave the lab. It's no problem since Trowa usually sits quietly on the couches to the far corner of Quatre's office while working on some of his experimental analysis. After all, didn't Trowa promise to take care of him?

This reminds me of an incident that happened a few days back. It was Friday afternoon when an elderly executive came into the office, demanding a resignation from Quatre. All the while, Trowa was seated, unnoticed on his usual position. Quatre was in a bind and refused to defend himself against the old man. In fact, he let himself be scolded for half an hour. By that time Trowa had just had about enough of it. He stood up and called the man's attention by clearing his throat. His haughty attitude does come in handy every once in a while.

"Excuse me," he said. "but if a competent man such as yourself thinks that he has the right to talk down on and infantilize his boss the way you're doing then I suggest you get yourself some manners because the man you're accusing of incompetence is not only half your age and better than you but he's also twice your intelligence. In fact, your incompetence is written all over your face. I don't care what you're trying to cover up for. Cover up your incompetence elsewhere before you make a fool of yourself more than you already have." 

What more can I say? True, Quatre does have to learn to show people who's the boss around there. He's too nice sometimes that they push him around. Until the day he realizes that he's worth more than the numbers in the newspapers say so, Trowa will be backing him up and keeping his spirits high; that, and keeping his neckline with a couple of red marks, if you know what I mean.

It's funny, you know, the way things work out in the end. Most people envision a never-ending romance filled with pleasant moments and absolute perfection. When you look at it closely, however, you notice the flaws, the little quirks that turn the romance into a less appealing movie sequence. Does that make it deficient? Absolutely not. It's what makes a relationship real. It's what made Quatre authentic in Trowa's own world of perfection.

The last and probably most important question to ask is where am I in all this? Just why do I sound like the outsider in Trowa's story when I claim to be his most important tie? Maybe it's because I've been lying to you all this time or maybe it's because you thought I didn't really exist.

As I draw to a close, listen to me a little more closely. I will always remember the days of Trowa's childhood, the days he spent the most with me. With time, I am fading into the background, like the memories that become deeply embedded in the nether regions of the brain. Doctors no longer call me his imagination but instead call me his genius. I am no longer his lone friend but his judgment and his wisdom. His growth has been my success and his happiness is mine. I am the one who makes his destinies worthwhile, the one who knows him well enough to understand. I will forever be the one who makes memories with him. After all, I am and will always be the intricate workings of Trowa Barton's brilliant mind.

End.

* * *

_Note_: The mystery of the narrator was never meant to distract or annoy anyone. I won't apologize for writing the way I did because it was meant to be written the way it was. I do hope that this ending answers a lot of questions. Kudos to the people who caught on to it early on!


End file.
